


back to the light

by janie_tangerine



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Bottom Ben Solo, Clothing Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fix-It, Force Bond (Star Wars), Hurt/Comfort, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Redeemed Ben Solo, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Force Ships It, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Top Rey (Star Wars), Woman on Top, did I get the fixits out of my system? we just don't know, fuck tros with a chainsaw tbh, implied poefinnrose being a thing at some point, in this house we stan redemption arcs, poe dameron doesn't like nonsense and neither does finn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 01:07:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21978718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: “You do know you don’t need to do that?”“I don’t need to do what?” He’s deflecting. Obviously.“Think that you have to do anything so I won’t be disappointed. I’m not. Don’t you feel it?”“I feel that,” he admits, sounding like he’s about to cry, “but isn’t that what I always end up doing, eventually?”For - on one side the bond is damn useful because she feels what he feels and she’s not going to step out of it now when they’re still getting themselves back together, but on the other she’s feeling all the misery he’s projecting fully and right, of course he’d feel like that, and why wouldn’t he when he’s had two monsters whispering in his head for his entire life and when it’s all he’s been told since he turned and maybe it’s all he felt before, too -“Well,” she says, “not with me.”
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Poe Dameron/Finn, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 32
Kudos: 340
Collections: TROS - Ben Solo - Fixit Fics





	back to the light

**Author's Note:**

> ... well, apparently the last fix-it wasn't enough to get my hatred for all of this movie's choices out of my system, so have 10k of these two being tooth rotting soft idiots who have a lot of sex, I guess. HAPPY HOLIDAYS yes I spent Christmas writing this angrily no I don't regret this At All. Also, apparently I have a type when it comes to both my het ships and my porn with them so have... a lot of that, I guess. Also, that ending still doesn't exist. ;) Idk if there's more but if there is I'll see you next year. XD
> 
> Other than that, I don't own shit except for the porn, the title is from a Brian May song and I would like to thank for the suggestions everyone on the Italian tumblr discord who has been raging with me about this damned movie since it came out. *saunters back downwards*

When Ben falters in her arms for a moment, Rey’s first thought is _no, no, don’t tell me that he gave all of himself to bring me back_ , even if from the way he’s looking up at her _that_ ’s what he thinks he has done, and then she wants to scream because _no, it can’t be, not_ now _, it would be so unfair, not now that she finally could take his hand_ -

Then she takes a moment.

They were a _dyad_ now, weren’t they, so if she saved him _before_ and he brought her back _now_ there will have to be a damned balance to it, wouldn’t it -

She reaches out, her hand going to his heart, feeling its beat slow down, and then she breathes in once, twice, and lets that Force that flew through her before go back to _him_ and at that point his cheeks turn less pale as he coughs a little, and then he whispers -

“Stop,” he says, “I don’t - we shouldn’t keep on bringing each other back like this.”

She has to smile at that, and she slows the flow down - like _this_ , he doesn’t look great, but he also doesn’t look like he’s about to die, and she feels weak but that’s all right. She holds him closer, sighing when the side of his head touches her chest, revealing in the sensation of having him right _there_ , finally, where she’s wanted him to be for so long -

And then it hits her.

She had died.

He _brought her back_.

With his own life, for -

She shakes her head, her fingers going to his hair, running through it, and he sighs as she does it, trembling ever so slightly, and she can feel it, she can feel that he can’t remember the last time anyone touched him like _that_ , and then she has to say something - they can’t leave now. But then again she knows they won the battle. They can stay here a bit longer.

“You saved me,” she says, not that she needed to, but she sensed that he might have needed to hear it.

“Yeah, well.” He moves closer. “The only good thing I’ve ever done, at this point.”

He doesn’t sound _happy_ about that. Obviously so, but -

She holds him closer. “I don’t know about that,” she says. She can think of a few others. Killing Snoke first and foremost, but she’s not sure he wants to hear that now. “And even if it was, I think you could look at it differently.”

“How?”

“Like the _first_ good thing, then. With others to follow.”

She can feel him smile again against her chest. She wants to see that again, too, but she can wait for a moment. His hands are grasping her sides, like he never wants to let her go, and she doesn’t want that either, but -

“That’s… a way to see it,” he says. “I don’t know if anyone else would.”

She shakes her head. “I know my friends, I think,” she says. “They’ll see it like that. I know they will.”

She can feel he’s not entirely convinced of it, but that’s all right. She’ll see to it. But then she senses it - how pleased he had felt when she told him he _could_ do good.

Rey thinks she might have to think about this a lot more, soon, but maybe -

She doesn’t feel like fainting now. Her X-Wing isn’t too far. She thinks she can help him to it.

“Hey,” she says, her fingertips twirling in his hair, “do you think you can get to the ship? I’ll fly us back home and you can see exactly how much no one is going to hate you.”

He takes a moment to nod and says that he thinks he can do it. She helps him up and they make their way slowly towards the X-Wing, except that it was built for _one_ person, not two.

“I suppose your ship -”

He shakes his head. “Most likely gone by now. But it’s fine. I can just stay on the ground.”

She doesn’t like it _that_ much, but he’s too drained to fly and she knows the way, he doesn’t. She nods and helps him into the cockpit, and the only way they manage to fit inside is if he curls on the ground on her side, his head over her thigh.

All right.

She thinks that if she concentrates she _can_ make her entire trip like that. She flies out of the damned planet hoping she never sees it again in her entire life, and a moment later she feels that he’s fallen asleep out of exhaustion, but it’s fine. He’s alive, and he’s breathing, and when she reaches down with one hand and cards through his hair again, he exhales in relief as he curls against her closer.

And he _feels_ happy. She can feel it through their bond.

Well then.

She smiles to herself. She _will_ make sure to understand what exactly is going on later.

Now she has to go home.

\--

The bed in the Falcon never felt this comfortable, she thinks.

They ended up here after Lando said that it was the best place to recover from injuries considering how the rest of the base looked, and when he looked at Ben and said _well, nice to see you’re back with us, kid_ , she’s pretty sure Ben was about to break down in tears, but that hadn’t happened and no one had protested even if she had promised both Poe and Finn that they would talk later, all of them -

_Later_ , though. He’s still so very weak, and she feels so very tired, and the moment their backs touched the mattress she had felt like passing out, but then she hadn’t because he had wrapped an arm around her waist and closed his eyes as his head nestled against her side, and she can feel the Force flowing through their bond all over again, and she knows he’s asleep again as he goes rigid against her, and she doesn’t hear it but she _feels_ it -

She reaches down, grasps his fingers.

_I’ve taken your hand once_ , she thinks, _I’m not letting it go_.

He holds on to it tighter, even if he’s not quite awake yet, and she closes her eyes, too.

They’ll talk later.

\--

Rey wakes up at once, she doesn’t know how long later, because her stomach feels curled on itself and as she opens her eyes she feels like she wants to throw up and the walls of the room are closing in on her and it takes a moment to see that it’s not coming from _her_.

No, it’s coming from _him_.

Rey grasps at his shoulder, shaking it just enough to wake him up, and when he does she finally takes in the surroundings -- the lights are dimmed down, so it’s probably dark outside now, they aren’t if it’s full day, and suddenly he looks so much paler in the low orange light, that dark sweater of his making stark contrast with it, and he’s not quite looking at her now, but he doesn’t have to.

“You don’t have to prove anything else to me, you know,” she says when he doesn’t speak.

“I feel like I should,” he admits, and she can hear it, that he’s thinking it might not have been enough, it might have been too late, he should have listened to that pull to the light sooner -

She shakes her head, her legs going around his thighs, moving slowly on top of him, feeling that he _wants_ her to.

“And I feel like you shouldn’t,” she says, her hands going to his shoulders. “Actually, I feel like you just about _died_ to save me and I’m nowhere near as tired as you are.” Her fingertips trail over the sweater’s neckline and she feels him trembling, arching up just slightly -

Well then.

“And maybe I should take this off,” she says. “Or shouldn’t I?”

“If - if you want,” he chokes, looking up at her as if he can’t believe she’s there, and she nods and slides it off him slowly, uncovering his chest, her fingers finally _touching_ where she had always just imagined to do it, and oh, he _does_ arch up into her touch at that, as if he wants _more_ , but -

Then again -

She leans down, kisses his forehead, her hands moving down over his hips, and at that his ankle hooks around hers and she realizes she has no damned idea of what she’s doing but she can feel that he doesn’t have that either, and suddenly she _feels_ that he’s never had anyone touching him like that _maybe_ except for when their hands touched in the hut

(not counting his father or his father’s ghost but it wasn’t like _this_ )

and that’s not _right_ , not when she can feel him brimming with all that light he repressed for years, when it’s reaching for her through the bond, and so she leans down, kisses him again once, twice, his mouth and then his cheeks and then his mouth again, and it turns frantic in a matter of seconds, but she can also feel that he’s thinking in the back of his head that she might be disappointed and he has to make sure she isn’t and he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do but he has to figure it out, and so she slows down and moves back, shaking her head, keeping her eyes on his.

“You _do_ know you don’t need to do that?”

“I don’t need to do what?” He’s deflecting. Obviously.

“Think that you have to do _anything_ so I won’t be disappointed. I’m not. Don’t you feel it?”

“I feel that,” he admits, sounding like he’s about to cry, “but isn’t that what I always end up doing, eventually?”

For - on one side the bond is damn useful because she feels what he feels and she’s not going to step out of it now when they’re still getting themselves back together, but on the other she’s feeling all the misery he’s projecting _fully_ and right, of course he’d feel like that, and why wouldn’t he when he’s had _two_ monsters whispering in his head for his entire life and when it’s all he’s been told since he turned and maybe it’s all he felt before, too -

“Well,” she says, “ _not with me._ ” She leans down, kisses him again, feels him exhale in relief into her mouth as he uncoils a bit, and a moment later she has her hands on his trousers and she’s pushed them on the ground, and she tries to get out of her clothing without moving too much, until it’s his naked chest against hers, and suddenly she has a feeling she knows what she has to do.

“Actually,” she smiles, making sure it’s obvious she’s not quite serious, but she thinks he can feel it, “you can _not_ disappoint me by letting me take care of things for now, how about that?”

“What -”

“Ben, you _saved my life_ , you fought the greatest threat to this galaxy and you almost died when we fought on the bridge, and you’ve done the right thing since the moment you knew you wanted to, I think that you earned to lie back and let me do the work,” she says, and then she leans down and bites down softly on his shoulder, and he moans at that in surprise, but not in the _bad_ way whatsoever.

_Good_.

She keeps on kissing down his neck, over his shoulders, every piece of skin she finds, her tongue running along his scars, and the more she goes on the less rigid he becomes, until he’s trembling against the mattress because she’s touched all of him except for his cock, which she did on purpose, except that the more she avoided it the harder he became and she could _feel_ it against her thigh.

She can feel that he’s thinking he’ll come the moment he touches her.

“But do you _want_ to?” She asks, figuring that he won’t ask her, not openly, not for now, but it’s fine. She gets it. She does.

“I - I don’t know,” he blurts, “I didn’t even - I thought I might not even survive bringing you back, I haven’t -”

“It’s fine,” she says, “it’s _fine_ , we’ll figure it out.” She considers dragging it out for a bit, but -

But maybe it’s not a good idea now, so she nods and reaches down and wraps her hand around his erection and _strokes_ and it’s not like she’s ever jerked off another guy, but she was right - it’s over _fast_ , and he spills over her hand seconds after she touches him, as if he couldn’t wait for it a moment longer, and it just makes her feel even more like all of her blood is boiling, but she’s too distracted by how his cheeks are flushing now as he looks up at her in half-embarrassment while he can’t keep himself from smiling regardless. And before he can go _there_ -

“It wasn’t too fast,” she says. “I knew. It’s fine. We have all the time in the world now, don’t we?”

“That - that’s a point,” he replies, still quietly, but he’s smiling properly at her now, and she has to lean down and kiss him again, and _again_ , and now it’s - changed. He’s more relaxed, warmer, and when she brings her arms around him he relaxes into the touch immediately, and she can feel that he’s _tired_ all over again, and she’s fine like this. She doesn’t need to get off. That can be worked on later, she decides, it’s not like it’s urgent, and when he asks if she needs a hand, she shakes her head.

“No,” she says, “not for now. It’s all right.”

“But I didn’t do anything -”

“I never asked you to. It’s all right. That was for you, you didn’t _have_ to. It was good the way it was.”

“It was… good?” He replies, sounding like he can’t believe it.

“Why,” she says, moving closer so his head is pillowed on her chest as she leans back down on the bed, “wouldn’t it be? Of course it was. I liked it, you know.”

“All - all right,” he says, closing his eyes, and _then_ she feels it.

She’s pretty sure he has no idea that she just felt clear as rain that he had assumed _no one_ could ever find pleasure in making sure _he_ felt good.

But it was so clear, so plain, he didn’t need to tell her.

She kisses the top of his head and says again that it was good, that _he_ was good -

And she feels him shudder as he curls in closer to her.

The moment they’re both all right, she decides, she’s going to make sure he fully gets how much there is no way in the entire galaxy _he_ could disappoint her.

\--

“ _Oh_ , oh, yes, yes _just like that_ ,” she moans as his fingers find their way inside her tentatively - it’s morning out, they still haven’t left the bed and she’s on top of him again, where she’s ended up after a lot of fumbling and kissing as they woke up and realized they _did_ feel balanced now, and then it had happened and she hadn’t stopped him, and now those long, rough fingers of his are inside her, searching for the best way to make her scream, and she thinks he’s just found it because every moment he curls his fingers inside her she wants to jolt off the bed in pleasure. “Ben, _Ben_ , you’re - you feel so good -”

“Do I,” he breathes, but with none of the sureness one would have imagined, and then he curls his fingertips inside her again.

“Yes,” she nods, “ _yes_ , keep on doing _that_ , you’re doing great, just - _yes_ ,” she blurts, and he keeps on touching _that_ spot over and over, and if she thinks that once she had felt like she couldn’t breathe the moment she touched those fingers with hers and now they’re driving her insane as he obviously tries to find out what she likes when he’s never done this before, to anyone else -

The mere idea is what sends her over the edge, clenching down on his fingers and grabbing his shoulders as she lets herself go, pleasure shooting through her back and her blood, and she can feel that _he_ is enjoying it, too, and she takes a moment to take in everything coming through the bond again before she blanks out and closes her eyes for a moment, and when she opens them again she’s panting and he is, too, and he’s looking up at her like he can’t believe he just made her come and - she moves her hands to his face, cradling it in her palms, and leans down for another kiss, her thumbs caressing his cheeks, and then she feels salt on her lips and he’s shaking his head and -

“Is something wrong?” She asks, her fingers wiping at his eyes, but he’s smiling, _again_ , so it can’t be -

“No,” he blurts, “no, I just - I didn’t - I didn’t remember the last time something _wasn’t_ before yesterday and I don’t know what I’m even _doing_ -”

As she shakes her head and wraps her arms around his shoulders, she thinks that it _had_ to happen at some point. Of course it had to. No one leaves the life that he did without consequences, and she can feel that he can’t believe it’s happening every time she touches him willingly _and_ without meaning to hurt him, and all right, she couldn’t remember anything like that either before Finn crashed on Jakku, but she has had it since then.

He _hasn’t_ , has he?

Well then.

“I don’t think I know either,” she says. “But I think I want to find out.” _With you_ , she doesn’t say, but she _thinks_ that, and she lets him ride it out for a while, until he’s not shaking that much anymore, and then she decides that she needs to take his mind off it and pushes him back down on the bed, taking her time kissing him until she can feel he’s not thinking about anything else anymore, and then she reaches down and touches his cock again until he’s hard again, but this time instead of using her hands she slides down on him, not even easing the way in because she’s been so wet it hurt since he put a hand on her and it doesn’t even hurt, not really that much, and the way he looks up at her when she does it just about does her in -

He’s smiling with eyes wide open and looking up at her like he’s not even sure he can believe it’s happening all over again and his hands are grasping her hips, but he doesn’t move until she does, and when she does he follows her lead until he’s gasping for breath and she tells him that she _wants_ him to come inside her and she _needs_ him to, actually, and she feels him go rigid at that before he curses under his breath and spills inside her, his eyes going wide again as she reaches down and kisses him again, and she rides him until he goes almost slack in her arms and she’s come another time, maybe not as hard as before… but still, if she could spend the entire day in bed, she thinks she would. Except they can’t -

But they can definitely have another round or two before they have to go out and face the others.

\--

Eventually, they don’t because she can feel that he’s exhausted all over again and so she just curls up behind him instead and holds him to her for another few hours, until he sighs and says that maybe they _should_ go out and talk to everyone else. She kisses the side of his head before getting out of the bed, and she can feel that he hadn’t expected _that_.

Well.

Then he _will_ , she decides. He _will_ , very soon.

\--

She can feel he’s terrified of talking to the others.

He didn’t _have_ to be.

Lando talks to him separately before they can find everyone else and she’s pretty sure that Ben’s eyes are redder than usual when they come out of the Falcon, but she doesn’t ask. She can feel it went well.

Poe and Finn show up a moment later, looking entirely _less_ like they’ll oppose his presence here than either of them had anticipated.

“So,” Poe says, “two questions. It’s late, we had a grueling fight and no one is blind here.”

“Excuse me?” Ben asks, sounding baffled.

“You two are holding hands,” Poe sighs, nodding at them. Oh. _Right_. “Also, you went into the Falcon a _long_ time ago and you came out of it together. Also, Ren, your shirt’s buttoned wrong.”

Ben curses under his breath as he notices that yes, _it is_.

“So,” Poe says, “I won’t insult her intelligence and assume she brought you here because she lost her mind. Two. Questions.”

“All - all right.”

“I imagine you defected?”

“I did,” he answers. “Also, it’s - not Ren anymore.”

“Oh. How is it?”

“... Solo,” he answers, sounding like he can’t believe he’s actually _saying that_.

Poe _maybe_ half-grins. _Maybe_. “So, question two: do I have your word _and_ hers that you aren’t _ever_ going to use the Force on anyone the way you did when your charming friends in the First Order caught me?”

Ben’s face falls at that. “You have it,” he says. “I - I suppose apologizing for it now would be redundant?”

“Well, yes,” Poe says, but then Rey notices that his hand has snuck down and grabbed Finn’s.

Oh.

_Oh_.

“All things considered, since you capturing me _did_ eventually lead to good things and I haven’t died for it, instead of punching you in the face I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt because I want to think everyone can have a second chance. Now you just have to convince _him_.” He nods towards Finn. “We _are_ sharing command, you know.”

Rey had somehow missed _that_ development. Also, they’re still holding hands.

Finn just stares at Ben while Ben looks back at him without saying a thing, and for a moment it’s downright awkward -

“He’s good,” Finn shrugs.

“Wait, just like _that_?” Poe asks.

“I had a feeling,” he says. Then he looks at Ben. “I’ll keep an eye on you, but - you’re good. I felt that. And treat her right or I’m personally blasting you out of the Falcon. Clear?”

“Clear,” Ben says, sounding so relieved no one would doubt that he means it.

“Good,” Poe says. “Now, with your permission, since while _you_ were using the Falcon’s bed _we_ were handling the clean-up and I think I would quite like to show him a good time, too, we’re going to leave. _Don’t_ do anything stupid. Also, R - _Solo_ , you’re on probation until I say so. Got it?”

“I - got it,” Ben says, nodding. Then they both leave and he just stares at their backs until they disappear. “Was - was it really... so easy?”

“Why, would it have been better if it wasn’t?” She asks. “Hey. You did the right thing. _That_ ’s what matters to everyone here. That, and that you keep on doing it. And if they came around and Lando is all right with you, everyone else will.”

He looked about to say something.

Then Chewie stalks towards them, shouts something at Ben as if he’s _pretty damned angry_ and then he about hugs him _very_ strongly.

Lifting him up at once.

Rey smiles to herself and leaves them to it, saying she’ll be in her hut.

She also should probably change the sheets in the Falcon, but that’ll be for later.

\--

“So,” she tells Ben as he comes back into the bedroom where she did change the sheets after he went out to talk to Lando some more, “was that so hard?”

“I - not as much as I thought,” he admits, nodding once, worrying his shirt between his fingers. He’s found some clean clothes, but they’re an ill fit on him - too tight, the trousers too short. Maybe they could take a trip somewhere for new ones, she decides. Actually, she can feel that he’s not tired and he’s too wired up.

“Fancy taking a trip to the nearest system where you can buy something that’ll fit you?”

He stops, thinking about it for a moment.

“Yeah,” he nods, “fine. Sounds good. Uh, Chewie’s going to be very angry if you just fly off, I think.”

“Chewie’s not here to stop me and I need a co-pilot,” she winks, and she hadn’t thought flying the Falcon with his hand in hers would feel _this_ good, but -

But it does.

\--

It’s admittedly not too hard to find a planet with a large market - it’s a few hours’ worth of flight, and as they go around the stalls she can’t help noticing that he’s _not_ looking at dark clothing. He’s also passing on anything leather, and Rey says nothing until he asks her if she has money because _he_ certainly doesn’t - she hands him enough credits to buy at least three changes and tells him to take his time and that she’ll meet him in one hour. She’d rather leave him time to choose.

Still, while she goes around the stalls, she sees a stall selling leather jackets. He _had_ avoided them before, but this one is a light brown that’s nowhere like his old things, and it looks like it _would_ fit on him, and - it’s _similar_ to Han’s old one, but not the same.

She buys it and has it bagged, figuring that it can’t hurt to have it, then meets him at the entrance when she said she would. He also has a _lot_ more bags than her, and he looks like he’s satisfied with his purchases.

“So,” she says, “should we go back to the ship so you can try them on?”

“Yes,” he agrees, “these are starting to be uncomfortable.”

She glances at his chest under the obviously tight shirt. “For _you_ , maybe,” she winks, and he _blushes_ , and she had never thought she’d see the day when it happened but it makes him look so - so _ordinary_ , it’s - it’s a good thing, she thinks.

They go back to the Falcon.

She keeps her bag to herself.

\--

When they’re back in the ship, though, her hand wrapped around his, they’re all over each other before they can even think about trying clothing out - they stumble to the bedroom and her mouth is on his a moment later before they crash over the bed, Ben underneath her, his hands desperately grasping at her hips, and she wants to tear his shirt out -

Well.

It’s not like anyone stops her from doing it since he has new ones now, right? So she does at once, without even thinking about it, and he groans the moment she does it - wait, he _liked_ it, she can feel that -, and she looks down at his chest where she can see the scar of the wound she healed on that bridge -

She touches it.

He moans, his hips arching upwards, and then -

“Please,” he says, looking up at her he doesn’t even know what’s going on and desperately wants to figure it out, “ _please_ -”

“Please _what_?” she asks, her hands going to his face. “Tell me and I’ll do it.”

“I - I don’t - _touch me_ ,” he pleads again, and she nods her hands going downwards, all over his chest, taking her time to touch that scar again and his shoulders and his stomach and his hips, her mouth trailing all over his collarbone, and she can feel him arch up under her hands as if he needs to be closer and _closer_ and by the time she’s pulled off his trousers, moved down the bed and put his mouth on him he’s screaming her name, She can feel the _need_ to have her hands on him through the bond so strongly she almost faints, but she doesn’t let it distract her - she licks along the head of his dick once, twice, before she takes him in as much as the angle allows and starts sucking him off. She might have never done _that_ before but it doesn’t take too much work especially because she can feel what is working for him and what is not, and when she reaches with a hand to touch what she couldn’t fit into her mouth he hardens more and she knows he won’t really last long, but that’s fine - she keeps on until he screams her name and comes inside her mouth, and she _could_ have moved but she doesn’t.

Swallowing doesn’t taste really _that_ bad, actually she thinks she might grow to like it, and she doesn’t move until he’s finished, so intent on it that she doesn’t even realize that _she_ ended up so close she might as well just get herself off; her underwear is drenched when she lets his cock slide out of her lips, and it takes reaching down with her fingers for only a few seconds before she feels her pleasure take hold of her and she’s soaring, clenching down on her hand, blood rushing downwards, and maybe it’s not as intense as it could have been, but as she breathes in once, twice, thrice, she thinks - that it felt great. Better than. And she can feel that he’s feeling _good_ now, too.

Well then.

She wipes her mouth before crawling back up on the bed, her hand touching his dick again until he’s completely spent, and he tries to reach for her, but she shakes her head, just putting her underwear in his hand when she slides off it.

“Oh,” he says, letting it fall on the ground. “You -”

“Yes, I want you _that_ much,” she says, and then her mouth goes completely dry when he licks off his fingers the stickiness that had stuck to the tips when he touched her underwear.

Fuck.

_Fuck_ that’s hot, she decides, and she tells him before kissing him again, and now he’s not as tense as before. Now he’s all warm and soft against her, letting her set the pace, and she had felt how his light had reached to hers when she told him that she wanted him _that_ much.

She says nothing for a while, just content with making out, then she realizes that she feels _really_ damned hungry.

“You know,” she says, “how about we wash and you put on those new clothes and we go eat something out? My treat.”

“Couldn’t be mine, _you_ have the money.”

“Fair, but it’s still my treat.”

He nods and she sends him to the fresher, figuring that if they go together they’ll never get out of the room at all. When he says he’s done and comes out with a towel around his waist she makes sure to take a _very_ good look at him before she takes a quick shower, and when she comes back into the bedroom she finds him standing, with just his underwear on, staring down at the contents of his bag, and she feels the distinct unease radiating from him.

“Hey,” she says, putting a hand on his back, “what’s the matter?”

He shrugs. “I bought these without really thinking because I _liked_ them, but - I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t -”

“What is it even? Let me see.”

He shrugs and takes out the clothes from the bag, laying them on the bed.

Until it’s just a pair of blue trousers, she doesn’t get what’s the problem.

Then takes out a button-down shirt that’s… a sort of light blue that would look gray in a certain light, and she starts seeing _it_ -

And then he drops a black vest over the shirt, almost as if he’s ashamed he picked it.

Oh.

She can see the issue now - it’s not _exactly_ what his father used to wear, but… it looks similar enough that she can see the intent.

“Do you want my opinion?” She asks after another beat.

“Yes,” he says at once. No hesitations.

“He _did_ die for you, you know. And - you said - you saw him, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know if he was a memory or not,” Ben says, “or if - what my mother did just before, _well_ , when she reached me, brought him back for a moment. But I did.”

“And did he forgive you?”

“He did,” he nods. “But -”

“Then I’m sure _he_ wouldn’t mind and you should dress however _you_ want. Also you would look good in that, I think.”

“You - you do?”

“What,” she asks, jokingly, “you want help putting them on?”

She _had_ been joking. But the way he’s looking at her instead of answering -

“Uh,” she goes on, “I _would_. If you want it.”

“Maybe,” he says before grabbing the trousers and putting them on quickly - right. Those ones weren’t the problem, she thinks. Also, she likes the cut - they’re a bit large around his legs, not exactly snug, and they look pretty comfortable. He _should_ be comfortable, she thinks. He didn’t seem very much so, in his Kylo Ren getup. He doesn’t do anything else, though, so she grabs the shirt and slides it on his arms from behind before moving in front of him and buttoning it up, her fingers quickly covering the scar and making the way upwards, and for some reason _this_ feels more intimate than actually taking his clothes _off_. He’s staying still, breathing heavily as she smooths the shirt down and tucks it neatly inside the trousers’ waistline. She quickly goes to take the vest and he holds his arms out back so she can slip it on, too. It has no buttons, so she doesn’t have to do anything else, and when she moves in front of him she can’t help whistling softly.

“What,” he says, “does it look… good?”

She shakes her head. “Look for yourself.”

She drags it to what Lando told her used to be his cape wardrobe, which Han reconverted into a _regular_ smaller one, but it still has a mirror, and she pushes him in front of it so he can actually have a damned look.

And -

His eyes go wide as he takes the picture in.

The scar is still there on his face, framed by soft long hair, but the light color of the shirt that’s still nowhere near white doesn’t make his skin look ghastly pale, and since it’s loose and the trousers are also the comfortable kind of, he doesn’t look so coiled and about to snap inside his own clothing anymore. The vest fits him perfectly, she thinks, and like _this_ he does look like Han, a bit, but… not so much that it doesn’t feel like it’s _his_ aesthetic, not necessarily someone else’s. He silently pulls on a pair of soft black leather boots a moment later, and when he’s done - Rey doesn’t even try to hide his thoughts. He does cut a striking figure. It’s definitely not First Order getup. It’s _not_ Skywalker or Jedi getup.

It’s… _his_ getup, and if he feels closer to Han than the other side of his heritage, who is she to say no to it?

“You _do_ look good in it,” she says. “Because it feels like your thing.”

“And - it’s not wrong? That _this_ might be my thing, I mean.”

“Ben, since the moment you showed up on Exegol - there are a lot of things I still don’t understand that I have to figure out. But there is _one_ I know for sure.”

“And what would that be?”

“That _this_?” She gestures at him. “ _This_ is your thing. Not just the clothes. Just - all of it. It’s right. It’s _absolutely_ right. I’d stop worrying about it and embrace it if I were you.”

He gives her a half-nod, looking at himself in the mirror again.

“All - all right,” he says. “So, that dinner?”

She grins. “Let’s find a good place.”

They pass through the market to find a decent restaurant, and at some point he stops at a stall - when he comes back he has tied his hair up into a loose bun, some strands still falling around his face.

Rey thinks her throat goes dry.

“What,” he asks, “does it look weird?”

“Oh, _no_ ,” she shakes her head. “Please keep it. _Really_ , keep it.”

He does look a bit smug at seeing how _hot_ she thinks he looks like this.

Good.

He _should_ feel a bit smug. And she’ll make sure he knows exactly how much she’s looking forward to letting his hair fall loose later. _Later_.

\--

She spends dinner staring at him.

It’s not that he feels like a wholly different person. Because he _doesn’t_.

But -

But those clothes make him look freer, and he moves inside them like he was born to wear them and no one forced him inside them either, and he smiles more easily now, when she touches his ankle with hers under the table and when she takes his hand over the surface, and thing is - he _does_ move like his father sometimes, once in a while he does something that reminds her of Han so much she almost stops dead in her tracks even when she knew him for a few days only, but it’s not - it’s as if it’s in his blood, and he looks just so at ease like this, she wants to kiss that smile all the damned time.

But she can’t, not _right now_ , not as they’re finally having some real food sitting down without anyone breathing down their throats.

Still.

_Later_.

Later she _will_ do that, and she thinks about it and projects it Ben’s way as she bites down on her meat, and he blushes again, but he looks excited at the thought, and -

And they _won_ , they’re together, and they might be tired but they have time to recover, and so Rey orders some liquor that Poe has sworn by for months but that she never had a chance to try out, and when they decide it’s good they order another round, and it feels - good. Ordinary, but good.

“I kind of want to do this more often,” she says, halfway into her second glass.

“It would be nice,” he agrees, “we should.”

“Maybe we can go with those other two at some point,” she says, and Ben snorts, blushing again, and then he looks at her -

“Maybe, but not before the tenth time _at least_ ,” he jokes tentatively, but it comes out smoother than he probably was assuming it would, and Rey grins back and says it’s a deal.

She orders a third round.

He doesn’t say no.

\--

Now: it was _very_ good liquor.

Except that they hadn’t counted that they still haven’t fully recovered, which means that when they get back to the Falcon they’re both dead tired and giggling at every step they take and their motions are uncoordinated in a way that would be frankly embarrassing if they could be bothered to care, and so they end up taking off their clothes clumsily before slipping inside the bed, and she can feel he’s _way_ tipsier than she is. She realizes it’s the first time they’re actually _going to sleep_ before anything else and she reaches out to undo the bun at the back of his head, letting his head fall down freely, running her fingers through it, and he moans when she does, so she does it again and again and _again_ as his head falls against her shoulder. She scratches behind his neck a moment and he snuggles closer at that, and he’s holding to her waist like he never wants to let go, which she’s absolutely fine with.

He falls asleep before she does, and he’s smiling slightly as he does, and Rey thinks of falling asleep like this every night and her heart swells with it. He smiles a bit wider.

She hopes he felt it.

She really hopes he did.

\--

The next morning, he’s still dead to the world, so she kisses his forehead, dresses and flies the Falcon out of the planet before they’re written off as lost in space or _something._ She makes contact with Poe, who tells her to fucking _warn_ next time and then tells her that the weather is shitty but it should get better by the evening, so they can take their time and land then. She thanks him and slows her speed down, and maybe she ends up dozing on the chair but the ship is on autopilot, so it shouldn’t be a problem.

She wakes up a _long_ time later because she had felt heavy distress and not coming from _her_ , Snoke’s voice echoing in her head for a moment before she opens her eyes.

Shit.

_Shit_ , that’s Ben, not _her_ , and so she makes sure the autopilot is still on and runs back to the bedroom where he’s holding on to her pillow like it’s some kind of lifeline - she jumps on the free side of the bed, grasping his hands, trying to reach for him directly through the Force, and a moment later he opens his eyes and exhales in relief, but she can feel his fingers shaking. She doesn’t need him to tell her what’s wrong, she can _feel_ it, but still -

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asks, her hand going to his hair again, feeling him relax under her fingers.

“I don’t know how to,” he confesses, not quite looking at her but also pressing up against her fingers. “It’s just - I fought _this_ for so long because I thought I didn’t deserve it but now it feels _right_ and I hate that it took me so long to get it, and then -” He stops for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “I _want_ to deserve it. But it feels too easy. It _shouldn’t_ have been this easy. I’m not making sense, am I?”

“You are,” Rey says - she thinks she _does_ get it. “And who says? I don’t think it was that easy if it took you years to find out. You did the right thing. You just have to keep on doing it. Also -” She stops, wonders if she should say it outright, then decides that maybe she _should_. “We all know. That you _did_ the right thing. We’re not going to assume that you’re a lost cause. The ones who haven’t come around yet will. All right?”

He nods, then moves to look up at her, and she can see what he wants, she can _feel_ it, and so she nods and kisses him and gently presses his shoulders against the bed - he goes along with it, his mouth parting for her, his tongue caressing hers, and she leans down to kiss him again and then wonders, _what if_ -

She leans back a bit, _pushing_ , and a moment later she’s holding him down to the bed with the Force, but _gently_. Not forcing him to stay still. He groans at that, in pleasure -

“Is that all right?” She asks, her hands running along his chest.

“Yes,” he says, “oh, _yes_ , please -”

“Please _what_?” She smiles, moving her hands to his hips. “Use your words.”

“Keep - keep on doing it. Unless you want me to -”

“I think,” she says, “that I would really just rather have you relax for me.”

He breathes out, relaxes one moment, nodding -

“Good,” she says, and then she feels it, how _something_ inside him soars every time she tells him that, and so she nods and kisses him again, then kisses her way down his chest and his shoulders and his stomach, running her fingers over his thighs and squeezing his calves before kissing the side of both of them, and he stops caring about being silent when she does, moaning her name over and over. She smiles to herself, then she moves back up, still holding him still against the bed, but it’s not something she has to _force_ or anything because he’s letting her do it, melting against the mattress, and every time she touches him he seems to relax even more, until he’s looking up at her with blown pupils and like there’s nothing else he sees, and she frames his face with her hands again -

“You’re so good for me, aren’t you?” She asks, low, and she feels _that_ again, his light brimming and pushing against hers at that, and he seems like he can’t talk but he thinks _I want to be_ , and then speaks again -

“You already are,” she tells him, and at _that_ -

At that she doesn’t know what happens but the bond is just thriving with joy, she can _feel_ it, and he’s not tense anymore, not at all, and when she finally slides on his erection he’s _hard_ and he has no qualms making noise, and he only says her name and _yes_ and _please_ when it comes to sensed words, but it’s obvious he’s not giving a damn about anything anymore, especially being heard, and so Rey rides him slowly, massaging his shoulders, telling him he’s being perfect every other moment, making sure he hears it, petting his hair if she happens to feel some passing distress, and before she knows it she’s clenched around him and he’s come inside her so hard she would have felt shaken if she hadn’t been riding her own wave of pleasure and could barely notice it considering how hard _she_ is peaking herself, and when she slides off him and lets her hold on him go, he feels lost for a moment, she _can_ hear it through the bond, but it’s fine because she immediately holds him close a moment later, dropping kisses in his hair, and she can barely notice that the Falcon _is_ sort of landing, because it was so intense she could pass out from it and he’s this close to, but then he actually doesn’t and just holds her close, and so she cradles him to her and feels his heartbeat against her chest and tells him through the Force that she’s with him and she loves him and he’s _perfect_ to her -

\- and maybe she gets too tangled up in it because the next thing she knows is that the Falcon has _landed_ and oh, _shit_ , it’s never supposed to land on automatic but apparently nothing bad happened, and she should probably check how things are but she just _knows_ Ben needs her there and so she keeps on caressing his hair and holding him close to her, focusing on him all over again -

“Rey?”

Oh, _shit_.

“Rey, what are -” Poe says from the other side of the door before he opens it, Finn on his heel.

Well.

_Shit_.

Good thing they’re both covered in the bedsheets and Ben is too out of it to notice they actually walked in on them.

“All - all right,” Poe says, “next time I’m knocking, but you _do_ realize that if you land _with the automatic pilot_ and you don’t answer the comms we might get worried?”

That - was a point. “I - I do,” she says, “but, uh, we were - I couldn’t - I didn’t -”

“Well,” Finn says, “now I see why we’re supposed to assume _he_ is harmless. I mean, fine, I _feel_ that he’s harmless, but - wow. _Wow_. If only - never mind.”

“Finn,” Poe says, “we’re _not_ telling the defected troopers that the former Supreme Leader is like _that_ in bed. I mean, I guess we _could_ , but we’re better people than that. Also, Rey would murder us.”

“That’s entirely correct,” she says. “We’re - we’re coming in a bit. Just - don’t tell anyone, all right?” She thinks she must be blushing very, _very_ hard.

“Hey, I _am_ better people than that,” Poe says, mock-offended. “Come on, we need to talk to Rose about - _arrangements_ ,” he says, dragging Finn out of the room while Finn is desperately trying to not laugh his ass off and failing.

Rey doesn’t even want to know what arrangements they have with Rose. She also won’t ask about the bit of conversation she picks as Finn asks Poe _that looked interesting, can we try it out_ while leaving the Falcon.

She lays down on the bed again, instead, holding Ben closer.

Maybe next time she _will_ lock the door.

But she thinks she can’t wait for the next time. Or _the next one_. And she’s sure that neither can he.

She can feel that, after all.

***

It’s not that Ben doesn’t believe Rey, when she tells him that she couldn’t imagine being with anyone better.

Or better: he doesn’t believe that she couldn’t do _better_ than him, because she _could_ , and plenty. He believes that _she_ believes she can’t do better. Which is admittedly… flattering, at least. To think that _she_ is convinced that there’s no one else in the galaxy she could be happier with.

Then again, they’re - connected, and since they saved each other the bond has been even stronger, and he can’t tell himself any lies because he feels what _she_ feels for him and viceversa and every single time he’s just awed that she would in the first place.

He’s awed that she actually seems to have taken the task of making him _get it_ very seriously, and then he actually _feels_ how much through their bond and it almost makes him faint, the sheer intensity of it.

Every.

Damned.

Time.

He doesn’t know if she’ll ever succeed - he wishes she would, but he’s not sure he can get there. He’s not even believing he actually embraced his light and _kept it_ and it’s been months and no one has deemed him unworthy of that yet.

But she tries, oh she _does_ , and as she smiles and spreads her fingers over his shoulders as she uses the Force to pin him to the bed, _again_ , Ben can’t help thinking that this is not what the Jedi most likely thought an appropriate use of it.

But -

But every time he tried to use it _appropriately_ it backfired, didn’t it, and the Jedi could have been _wrong_ , they have been time and time again, and he never - he never was cut for that life. He knows that now. He couldn’t.

What he hadn’t realized was that he didn’t have to give everything good in his life up if he couldn’t make that life his own.

And now -

The way Rey uses it to make sure he can’t move too much, it doesn’t feel restrictive. It doesn’t pin him there without being able to breathe. But it’s _their_ Force, the part of it they share and that flows between them always, and it feels like something warm and soft and firm enveloping his wrists and ankles and keeping him right _there_ without a shred of pain.

And -

He had expected it to hurt, at some point. He had expected her to want to hurt him, and she _should_ have, he still thinks that -

But she never did. Her hands are all soft touches over his chest and through his hair and along his cheeks, her lips dropping kisses everywhere she can reach, and now that they’re fully healed, he found out she loves to take her time with him. The first few times they did this, he hadn’t thought he could stand her kissing him for more than a few minutes at a time before actually getting down to business, but now she could spend an hour doing that and he wouldn’t blink, not least because when he realized how much he craved it no amount of shame or thinking he didn’t deserve it could make him ask her to stop.

And now she kisses his mouth and his hair and his face and his collarbone and each single one of his scars, the inside of his wrists, the back of his neck, his shoulders, and by the time she says she wants more he’s usually already beyond coherency - because everything feels soft and _warm_ and the sheets under his back aren’t itchy as they were in the Jedi Temple nor too silken like the ones he had with the First Order that never felt quite right, and she’s over him and _around_ him and her hair that she has let down is brushing over his cheeks, and he thinks she could stop here and he would be fine, but then she shakes her head and whispers that she has plans.

Oh. All right then. He doesn’t probe to find them out, he doesn’t want to know, and so he lets himself sink into the bed as her tongue runs over his stomach, licking a stripe along his sternum, and then her fingers wrap around his erection, stroking him once, twice, thrice, and then he’s lost count because she goes slow and steady as her mouth covers his again before she whispers against his ear that she _loves_ how he’s always so eager for her touch, and one time he’d have felt ashamed but now he doesn’t because it’s true and there’s nothing shameful in it.

She doesn’t want him to come from _this_ , he knows, he can feel that, and so he waits until she decides she’s done - he’s leaking now, he can _feel_ that, and on one side he would like to touch her too to see if she’s as wet as he thinks she might be, but this is one of the days where Rey decides that he just has to lay back and let her do everything and he’s not going to be the person questioning it. Not when it’s not _uncomfortable_ , not really, he knows she’ll take care of it - take care of _him_ -, and he doesn’t project _come back_ when she moves away.

“I want to try something,” she says, “just stay there and tell me if it’s not your thing.”

He’s pretty sure that whatever she might do to him could never _not_ be his thing, but he nods a little, as much as his invisible bindings let him, and then he gasps when she touches his calves and _squeezes_ before kissing the sides of both, and then her hands go under his feet and her thumb massages the back of his heel first and then goes _down_ , and then she takes his left foot in one hand and starts massaging it _properly_ , taking her time, then moving to the second and doing the same before putting her mouth on the surface and licking her way up to his calf, _again_ , on both sides, and she’s being so slow and so thorough that he thinks he might explode, and she can probably feel that because she’s grinning, and he moans again and _again_ as she kisses her way up to his knee and then goes back down and starts from the other, before she flawlessly hoists herself up, grasping at both his knees and kneeling with her own around his thighs on the bed.

It’s such a graceful motion, he thinks as she raises the short gray dress she’s wearing and moves closer, _closer_ , her fingers touching his cock again, and maybe in normal circumstances he’d feel desperate for her to actually bring him off, but as it is he can barely notice _how_ much he needs her to just sink down on him because at some point when she was touching his feet he went straight to that point where it just feels like he’s floating and she’s the only focused thing in his vision, and that Force she’s using to hold him still feels like an embrace and he can feel that she’s _happy_ , that she wants this, and then -

“Let me feel you now,” she says, and then she’s sliding down, and _oh_ , she’s so wet she takes him in almost effortlessly. “Yes,” she moans, “oh, you feel like you were made for me,” she goes on, her fingers grasping his hips. “So - _good_ ,” she says, stressing the last word, clenching around him, not moving, and _oh_ , he’s feeling how much she’s turned on as she projects it all at him, a burninghotneed sparking through the bond, and he’s beyond talking now but then she starts riding him, _slow_ , and lets the Force give a bit so that she can move an arm at the back of his neck, and then she seems to think about it twice and lets his wrists go free - he doesn’t move them because she hasn’t told him to, but he could. If he wanted.

_If_.

She puts her hands on his, their fingers tangling, _oh_ , right, and then she holds _both_ of his hands at the sides of his head, leaning down, her tongue licking over his bottom lip before finding the way inside as he lets her in at once. Then drags him to a sitting position and uses the Force to stop him _there_ again and oh, it’s a _good_ angle because then she moans as his cock finds the right spot, not because _he_ did anything to make it happen, and she’s still holding both of his hands -

“You feel amazing,” she says, “and you should look at yourself. Maybe next time we can do it in front of a mirror.”

He doesn’t know if he’d have wanted that months ago, but now he thinks he could, and she feels it because she smiles again and rides him _harder_. “I could stay behind you,” she hints, her breath coming short. “I’d jerk you off while looking at your face in the mirror and _you_ do the same.” Oh _fuck_ , he’s close, he’s _close_ -

“Maybe then you’d see what _I_ see,” she says, and for a moment he finds the force of will to speak, and -

“Why don’t you show me?” He asks.

She laughs. “Hear that, he’s _finally_ asking for something.” It doesn’t sound mocking, though. It sounds like she’s delighted of it. “Of course I will, dear.” Oh, _oh_ , he always - when she calls him like _that_ -

“Of course I will,” she says, and then she lets his hands go so she can take his face in her hands and she moves up higher and then _down_ , and then she projects through their bond, and -

_And_ -

He sees his face as _she_ does, blown pupils and flushed cheeks and hair spread all over the pillow, an adoring look on his face that mirrors the one _she_ is sending his way and that he still can’t wrap his head around, and oh, _oh_ , it feels like there’s some kind of glow coming off him, from his eyes, from his skin, same as what he sees from her but she’s always glowing in his eyes, and she’s thinking that she doesn’t want to be anywhere else, and he - he knows she loves him as improbable as it could be, but like this he _feels_ it and he hopes she can sense that he feels the same, and from the way she’s smiling at him he’s pretty sure she is, but then she projects how _elated_ she feels every time she makes him smile or laugh or come or the three things at once and how she revels in the feeling that _she_ made him happy and he sees how much she likes taking off him his clothes, slowly, and how she likes putting them back on him after because she thinks he looks _right_ in them, his own picks and that jacket she got him once which he always wears these days -

And at _that_ he doesn’t -

He can’t hold back, not anymore, and she feels that because then she tells him that she’s ready and she wants him to come inside her and he should give it to her now and doing it is the easiest order he’s ever followed, and as he does it’s -

It’s all so _right_ , the Force surrounding them and keeping them together as she clenches around him and comes as well, her mouth finding his, all that warmth filling them up at the same time, how soft her hands are as she runs them through his hair, how his heartbeat speeds up _more_ when she tells him that he’s being _perfect_ and she loves seeing him like _this_ , and he doesn’t have to put any effort in holding himself up because the Force is doing it but _she_ is also doing it as she wraps her arms around his neck and his shoulders, her mouth covering his and swallowing his moans as he calls her name all over again, and he doesn’t know how long it is because it just feels so good and pure and full of that light he thought he could never touch again -

But he _is_ right now, bathing in it, surrounded in it, with Rey’s hands running all over him, and when he’s gasping for breath and coming down from the rush of it he’s lying down on the bed and she has his head on her shoulder and her fingers running through his hair and threading around a few strands before letting them go and smoothing them down all over again.

He moves closer to her, exhaling in relief as she wraps herself around him.

“One day,” she whispers, “I _will_ convince you I couldn’t do better.”

He doesn’t know if he can talk, but - but if he concentrates enough, he thinks he can. “Did I ever - say I wasn’t looking forward to it?”

He can feel her smiling. “Good,” she says. “ _Good_.”

And - maybe he’s not quite convinced she couldn’t do better. But the part of him that wouldn’t have believed her months ago is silent and he thinks it won’t speak ever again -

And he doesn’t miss it. Not at all.

End.


End file.
